Lancaster daily intelligencer. [volume] (Lancaster, Pa.) 1864-1928, 1887-01-15
THE WHITE MONTHS.
A. Oakes inN. Y. Independent.

/ X. A. Oakes I'm N. Y. Independent
From time TO time across the iieeting
sunny days Of January, the fierce fros
giants play their unsparing lashes. The air
bites and stings like fire mists dense ai
smoke rise where the river in untrammeled
freedom races along Its rocky banks all
living things that can retire TO sheltered
hooks content To own defeat. The snow
creaks and grosns a. IL the passing footstep
gave 1t pain, the breath congeals aud rims
the mustached mouth with glittering mail,
the very eyelashes freezo together. What
atmospheric effects come with this intense
cold The invisible moisture OF the air Is
turned 10 diamond dust, along whose facets
the sunshine streams In glitterlng waves
The stars OF night shine through It with an
indescribable brilIiancy the dome OF heaven
seems more deeply arched, and is coruscated
with q weird ehulgence. The walls OF unoc-
cupied rooms glisten with myriad frost stars
Through open key-holes, and over outside
thresholds are blown little riffs of argent
blossoms, crisp, airy, delicate, that crumble
aud melt at the passing touch. The wide
world Is a fairy land, immaculate in its
beauty, purest and whitest of all white
things.
And yet, despite its spotless whiteness, the
snow holds within It's prisms bits Of coloring
so brilliant that the brightest fringes OF the
After these days of intense cold, the sianting
light OF sunset will sometimes stream across
broad fields OF frosted spicule, and glow
and melt upon their points like liquid
rubies, At every step they change and
sparkle one seems to walk the enchanted
fields
-" Where the gems grow.
And diamonds put forth radiant rods ana bnd
with amethist and topaz"
One may question II the snow, even the
froaheat fallan. Ia aver without a0ma hint Of
color some musky shadow, faint, elusive, a
thousand times more delicate, yet not unlike
the glaucous bloom OF the ripe grape. But
when II deepens with constant accessions,
when the sun has melted and the frost has
frozen 1t, and all its heecy flakes have be-
come hard and granulated, 1t carries within
1t delicate reminders of the blue green's Of
the ocean, Of the pearly sapphirine azures of
the ice-blocks which come from springfield
lakes These are the bare potentialities Of
color which Tyndall tells us become constant
above the line OF perpetual snow, and which
increase In loveliness with every ing
gradient. Wherever In the Alps he thrusts
his staff into these yielding drifts of snow,
there flowed an ethereal blue liquid, while
the staff Itself glowed with the golden pinks
OF lambent flame. The dainty channels
with the most delicate blues, whose ridges
were capped with gray, and busted over
with stars like smoky quartz
To all the phases OF nature, the healthy
man, Thoreau tells us, Is the complement,
and In winter carries summer In his heart.
To what unknown depths must the mercury
in the thermometer sink before II congeals
the blood within his arteries : The Greek
boy, Aristophanes tells US, went naked
through the sleet and snow to school ; the
untsmed Iroquois bravsd the rigors of our
northern winters with but scant additions to
the covering which nature gave him. When
the physical man retrogrades, can the mental
man climb to nobler conquests? 1t Is sheer
al ar in paru hat a aOi w
is touched. What comrades has man more
joyous than the frost jotuns who wave their
Icy boards along our northern heights? No
lsnguid footstep keeps pace with their swift
stride ! No miid-minded melancholy I"
weaves dusty cob-webs In their brains No
" half-dropped eyelid " shades the light that
CLEANS from their blue eyes They are no
lotus eaters given to whispered speech.
Their voices kindle like the blsre of a trurI-
pet the taste of their breath reddens gle
cheeks like wine
How the heart OF the boy responds to these
gusty calls. Life has no idyls one-half 80
charming as those of the fsr-oti wintry days;
they throw their glamor across the interven-
ing years and linn on the memory pictures
before which all others fade. They belong
to the golden age OF youth, the tabled age
alike Of nations and of men. Had all the
year anything one-half 30 Joyous as the joys
the white months offered ?? What were the
songs OF BIRDS the flush aud dimple of
grasses In the meadows, the syllable whisper
Of June leaves to the merry chimes OF sill
very bells, the thrilling kiss of the skaters
steel on the black bosom Of the frozen pond,
or the perilous ride on the home.m sled
down the steep hill What life, what frolic,
what fun was wrought into each day With
what i'm patience one waited and watched for
the first decided storm, and when, on some
exceptionally fine morning, one sprang from
the warm bed to know that outside lay win.
ter's deeces piled up until they touched a tall
mans shoulders, what other Joy could COM
pare with it